Red The Senses
by x Veela x
Summary: It's all about red and the senses...funnily enough. Oh, and getting Oliver together with Katie of course! OWxKB, FWxAJ, GWxAS. //Finished//
1. Touch Monday

**Disclaimer: However much I might wish I did, unfortunately I do not own any of these characters… They all belong to JKR… (mutters darkly under breath)**

**Red – The Senses**

_Touch Monday_

"Why red?" Oliver was sitting at the Gryffindor table trying to eat his increasingly growing cold toast. As you may have guessed, he wasn't getting very far. The Weasley twins were impeding his progress. He had called them over to remind them that Gryffindor was having an extra quidditch practise on Wednesday in preparation for the match against Slytherin on Thursday.

"If you two forget or turn up late, I shall see red!" Oliver had glared at them.

Fred's eyebrows sprung up, "Why red?" he asked with an expression of utmost innocence on his face.

George leaned inwards with a smirk, "Is it your favourite colour?"

Oliver had rolled his eyes and sighed heavily. Abandoning his toast, he stood up to tower over the twins, "It means I'll be very angry." The twins feigned shock as Oliver stalked out the hall, muttering himself. As he made his way to the Gryffindor common room to collect his books, he smelled Dungbombs, passed Professor Binns' classroom. He chucked to himself, now understanding why Fred and George seemed pleased with themselves. His smile faded as he realised that seventh years had History of Magic next.

Coming back out the portrait hole, Oliver was nearly squashed by a gaggle of first years following three students, two of them, the youngest Weasley and a brunette, bickering forcefully with each other as the third was trying unsuccessfully to instil peace. It seemed the novelty of having Harry Potter at Hogwarts had not yet worn off. Oliver pushed his way through the crowd and caught up with the three first years.

"Hey Harry!" They halted and the front of the group behind Oliver nearly crashed into him. Oliver shooed the fan club away and they reluctantly left to go to their own lessons. "Ready for the first match of the year?" He turned back to Harry. The boy nodded and swallowed a bit nervously. "Excellent. There's an extra practise on Wednesday at seven, so steer clear of detention."

"Sorry I'm late, Professor." Oliver shut the door hastily and sat in his usual seat. Professor Binns merely looked startled and then nodded, flicking over the page of his book and continuing his lecture on the Goblin War of 1339. Oliver took his books, parchment, quill and ink out in order to look as if he was doing something constructive, when in reality he was staring out the window at the falling leaves. It was still autumn, and the leaves tumbled from the trees in the breeze, landing on the ground in a collage of reds, pale yellows, a multitude of golds, their colours all magnified by the small drops of morning dew that still stuck at the tips.

While staring out the window, he noticed two blondes walk arm in arm across the window. Leanne pointed out a small robin pecking something on the windowsill. Following the trail of her friend's finger, Katie saw Oliver Wood, Gryffindor's sexy Scottish Quidditch Captain with his own fan club. Then she noticed the robin. It had a beautiful red breast that contrasted with its tiny beak and bobbed up and down as it continued its search on the windowsill.

He raised his hand and they both smiled at him. Leanne whispered something in Katie's ear and went to sit on the bench in plain view, but not exactly opposite him. As the robin flew off, Katie followed her friend and sat on the bench. She had a quill out, and it looked as if they were doing a quiz in a magazine.

The sight of one of _his_ chasers, as he liked to call them, brought his mind back to quidditch. Not that he was possessive, you understand, he knew that the girls were human and he did not _own_ them, but, well, they _were **his**_ team after all. If he just _tilted_ the window a little bit, he might be able to hear a snatch of their conversation. Unbeknownst to Oliver, Leanne had just shot him and then Katie a sly glance, before looking to the leaves scattered around on the ground. Before Oliver had poked the window subtly open enough to listen to them – his mind skirted around _why_ he wanted to eavesdrop – Leanne had made a soft suggestion to Katie, then they had their wands out and were piling the leaves up in a heap before them.

Oliver groaned inwardly as to what he knew they were going to do. They were outside in a free period, the slight breeze making Katie's cheeks flush a bit, while he was stuck inside in a warm, stuffy classroom "listening" to Professor Binns as he droned on and on about the effects the Goblin War had on the wizarding society. He watched as Katie hurtled herself at the mound of colour and landed with a gleeful cry of mirth as the leaves rose up and floated back down on top of her. Leanne walked over to offer her a hand up, but that mischievous smile played around Katie's lips. He recognised it as the look she wore when she would fly up to the hoops behind him, the quaffle in her hands and feint right as she tossed the ball underneath him straight through the left hoop. As she clasped hands with her best friend, Katie grinned and she pulled Leanne down into the pile of leaves. The girls squealed with laughter as they played about in the leaves as though they were still in primary school. Oliver sighed enviously and closed the window after noticing the girls at the desk in front of him shiver slightly. His gaze went back to Katie and Leanne now and then as he began to draw up plans for tactics to win the Cup.

As he was finishing his new chaser formation, he felt he was being watched and looked up to find the girls tapping their toes at him and looking expectantly at him. He let out a laugh and turned it hastily into a cough.

"Is there a problem?" Professor Binns asked.

"No, Sir." He replied. Professor Binns sighed and returned to the lesson. _Once,_ he thought, _Just once, when I say that, somebody would have a problem. It's been such a long time since a student was paying attention enough to ask a **proper** question…_

Oliver turned back to the girls and the corners of his mouth twitched. They had re-piled the leaves tauntingly and mock bowed at him offering the leaves behind them. He raised an eyebrow, his mouth turning into a full smile as he waved his quill at them as if threatening them. He watched as they laughed at him and then skipped back to the castle as the bell rang. He rose up from his seat and packed his books back into his bag, eyeing the leaves out the window. _No you can't._ He thought to himself, _You're in seventh year, what if somebody saw you?_ His mind shifted uncomfortably back to the time when Percy Weasley had nearly caught him bouncing up and down on his bed after he had made it onto the Gryffindor quidditch team. _Percy wouldn't have understood. He is not destined to be a professional quidditch player_.

He sought out Angelina and Alicia during lunch to tell them about the extra practise. As he walked up to them, he hoped that Katie wasn't with them – he refused to admit this to himself as he didn't want to imagine why he hoped he could catch Katie on her own later. He saw Angelina next to Fred opposite Alicia next to George laughing about nearly falling off the benches. _Even my team is having more fun than I am_.

Throughout the rest of the day Oliver searched the crowds for a glimpse of his third chaser, the taunting mound of leaves nagging him at the back of his mind. By the end of the day he still hadn't seen her and was returning to the Gryffindor common room resigned to watching the Weasley twins juggle butterbeer bottles all night, when he crossed the courtyard. The leaves were miraculously still heaped together; the first years obviously hadn't found them yet. Oliver glanced upwards and around him. Most of the school was safely tucked away in their common rooms, and those in empty classrooms weren't going to be paying any attention to the view from the window. _Why shouldn't he_? With another quick check to see that no one was behind him, Oliver threw himself into the leaves, whooping with joy. He tossed around, forgetting himself for a moment as he absorbed the luxury of the wind-dried leaves that crunched and crackled beneath him as more flirtatious red leaves swooped and fluttered above him.

His attention was caught by another flash of red, propped up by the bench. He straightened himself up, still chuckling from the leaves and went over to pick up the lost item. It was a silky red shoulder bag that sparkled with fake diamonds around the rim. It sported a swirly black central pattern surrounded by black sequins that was almost oriental. _Oh dear, I recognise this bag._ Sure enough, when he checked for the name label inside the bag, there it was, in black swirly writing: _**Katie Bell.** _

When Oliver returned after dinner to the Gryffindor common room, he found, as he had predicted, Gred and Forge, _No, wait I mean **Fred** and **George**,_ in the middle of the common room, juggling bottles with a fan club clustered around them. Katie was sitting round the fire, observing Angelina and Alicia as they were hoisted onto the table with Fred and George, with a half exasperated; half amused look on her face. He dashed up the stairs to his dormitory and returned a couple of minutes and found her just about to go up the girls' staircase.

"Katie!" She turned round and smiled at him, "I found your bag when I went to – uh – when I crossed the courtyard." He handed her bag to her and she smirked as she took it form him.

"What?" He asked slightly irritated - Professor McGonagall had also found something funny when he walked by her on his way to the common room.

"Did you have fun outside?" She pressed a hand to her mouth to stifle a giggle. He raised an eyebrow at her wondering how she could have seen him jumping in the leaves when he found her settled in the common room. _Why does it matter to me that Katie might have seen me mucking about in a pile of leaves anyway?_ She reached up and presented him with a ruby leaf. "You had a leaf sticking up out of your hair." She smirked as she skipped up the stairs, trying not to laugh at him.

Later that night, Oliver lay in his bed contemplating the day, absentmindedly twirling a leaf through his fingers. Through the moonlight seeping between the gap in his hangings, the leaf looked as though it had a sliver of silver slinking across the red. He thought about red. How red felt: the smooth upper surface of the leaf, the trail of the vessels on the underside of the leaf contrasting with the silky softness of Katie's bag. He thought how he felt about red; how red was disposed to create anger, as he had demonstrated to the twins, while it had a softer, fun loving feel to it as well.

_Yes,_ he murmured to himself as he fell asleep,_ red feels rather nice._

**Hmm…Oliver Wood – Deep Thinker – the possibilities are endless.**

**Reviews would be appreciated xXx**


	2. Smell Tuesday

**Disclaimer: However much I might wish I did, unfortunately I do not own any of these characters… They all belong to JKR… (mutters darkly under breath)**

**Any Latin translations are courtesy of the translator I found somewhere on the Internet – I do Spanish. I think the story line is getting a bit predictable, but never mind…**

**Red – The Senses**

_Smell Tuesday_

Professor McGonagall was still smirking at him when he sauntered into breakfast the following morning. He sat down as far away from the group of giggling third years that made up half of his fan club as he could, which once again unfortunately positioned him opposite the Weasley twins. As he looked into the mischievously grinning faces in front of him, Oliver sighed. _What have I done to deserve this?_

"Good Morning, Oliver!" They called in unison.

"Says who?" He replied glancing up at the dark clouds clustered above them. As if on cue, the sound of heavy rain spattered against the tall glass windows surrounding the hall was accompanied by a roll of thunder.

"Where's the fighting spirit -"

"The steely nerve –"

"The heart of a lion –"

"The stomach of –"

"If you two don't shut up, not only may you be playing in conditions like these on Thursday, I'll condition an extra beater practise today. If you see any chasers would you let them know practice is cancelled for this evening, but is still on tomorrow, regardless of conditions." Oliver pulled a plate of sausages towards him and added a few to his scrambled eggs and mushrooms. He stabbed at a piece of bacon and was about to put it on his plate when Fred grabbed it from him, holding up a finger. George drizzled tomato ketchup onto it, before handing it back to Oliver. As he stared at his breakfast with the added red sauce, the steam rose up and filled his nostrils. Breakfast smelled good. _Hang on, why did they just -_

"What do you want?" He asked them suspiciously. He saw they were about to go into denial. He cut their act off; despite what some people may have thought, Oliver Wood found the twins amusing and he knew if they elicited a smirk from him, they would be unbearable. "And no pretending – remember I've just threatened you with a couple of hours of a duel against Mother Nature."

"Ah, Mother Nature - one lady we will bow down to graciously."

"But one lady we won't, is our mother. We want you teach us how to magic – uh – certain little items, to have effects on others." Oliver looked at Fred uncomprehending.

George added, "Say for example – sweets, when eaten, – uh – changing someone's appearance. It's NEWT level Transfiguration that we don't know- but you do." Oliver looked suspiciously at the twins who were still grinning. _What harm can it do?_ He fished a bag of toffees out of his pocket and unscrewed a shiny red wrapper, tipping one out into the table for the first demonstration. After a quarter of an hour, the twins had got the hang of the spell after making each other's hair go various shades of maroon; Oliver had finished his breakfast and stood up to go to charms.

"But how do we reverse the spell?" George asked as Oliver walked away.

"It's called the library!" He replied, laughing at the scowling faces. He stuck his tongue out at them; a gesture with they graciously imitated, and walked out the hall.

**Little did Harry know that he was not the only person responsible for the creation of _Weasley's Wizard Wheezes…_**

Oliver made his way up the marble staircases to the charms classroom and stood outside with the rest of the students. Professor Flitwick appeared and ushered them all in.

"Today you will be learning the closest charm to an Unforgivable curse I will teach you. I'll start will a demonstration, then we'll move onto the theory and maybe if we're really feeling quick today, we might even have time to have a go. It is non-verbal, and with it you can make an inanimate object perform a certain action or actions. Unlike the Imperius curse, however, you will have no control over what the object does when it is performing the action, or where it travelled until you remove the curse and the object becomes once more inanimate. For example," he gestured to a tiny model of Viktor Krum, the famous Bulgarian seeker standing proudly with his broomstick in one hand, and clutched proudly in the other hand, a tiny snitch was being held aloft.

Professor Flitwick waited until he had the whole class's attention and then, quite abruptly, Viktor Krum let loose the miniature golden snitch. It began to flutter around him, before flying further away. Krum mounted his broomstick and began to chase after the tiny speck of gold, weaving in and out between the students, his crimson robes billowing out behind him.

The bewitched snitch zoomed around the room, with Viktor Krum hot on its trail, the famed determined glare etched onto his face. Several girls gasped as he dived down, following the trail until he was millimetres away from the flittering treasure. He pulled out of the dive, triumphant as the snitch was clasped once more in his hand. Krum landed on Professor Flitwick's desk and beamed around at the rapt audience before he froze again. Oliver stared, his attention as captivated as the rest of his classmates. He nearly laughed out loud at the idea of telling the twins about that charm - they would probably start bumping off the Slytherin Qudditch team or bewitch sharp pointy objects to follow Professor Quirrell around all day.

As Professor Flitwick turned to the board to begin writing down the theory, Oliver looked down at his tactic file and rifled through it inspired for plans for his own seeker. His eye caught on a title at the top of a page - Chaser Formation 6. _Oh dear, Katie still doesn't know about the practises. Maybe I'll just have to go and look for her today_.

When it came to the last double period of that day, he still hadn't found Katie. _Great, double potions._ Professor Snape liked Oliver Wood no more than the rest of the Gryffindors. In fact, Oliver's chances were rather ruined because he was Qudditch Captain and a whole lot better looking than Snape ever was.

"Marcus, if I asked you to recall from last year for me what the potion Amortentia is, what would you say?"

"It's a love potion, Sir." Flint replied.

"Ten points to Slytherin. Wood, a similar potion - what is used for?"

"I don't know, Sir." Snape smirked at him.

"It is known as "Expiscor votum" literally translated from Latin as "discover desire". It will be different for each and every one of you, as it will be created with a different desire at heart. If created correctly it should have an alluring colour that looks silver to everyone except the brewer, but likewise with the smell of the potion, and the emotions the potion evokes will be individual to the brewer. It is known as a "Recreational Potion" as the effects of the potion are purely for enjoyment purposes. You have the Headmaster to thank for letting you make this potion; if it were purely my choice you would have learnt the theory and moved on, however, the Headmaster felt _nerves are running tight_ and wishes you to create this potion. Each drop is worth a quarter of an hour's worth of an effect. With it you will feel relaxed, at rest in luxury enjoying the sensation of having your desires around you."

Snape turned abruptly and stalked to the front of the class. He flicked his wand and writing began to appear on the blackboard, dictating the ingredients and method. "You will have until the end of the lessons to complete the potion, it is complicated and intricate, but is not an overly long process and you should complete it around fifteen minutes before the end of the final lesson today. When completed, you will submit a small vial of the potion to me, then the rest of the potion is yours. The Headmaster reminds you that any potion such as this is forbidden during a quidditch match and advises you to use it in your own time rather than in lessons. Begin."

An hour and a half later, Oliver Wood presented Snape with some of his potion. He was among the first few to finish, but refrained from discussing with his fellow Gryffindors the characteristics of his potion. He watched as some of the girls shot him appraising looks as they just sat at their desks inhaling their potion. _Oh well, I've never understood the ways of the feminine mind_. Intrigued, he took a small sniff of the _Expiscor votum. _Among the smells that he recognised and identified, there was one smell that he recognised but could not place. _Where have I smelled that before?_ After checking in the reflection of the basin of water he was using to clean his hands that he didn't have any leaves sticking up out of the back of his hair, he sat down and resumed his quidditch preparations. _Could Harry do a Wronskei Feint? (sp?)_

On his way back to the Gryffindor common room, he wondered down the corridors thinking where Katie might be. He wanted to check that she knew about the practise schedule; he doubted she would be with Fred and George when Angelina and Alicia reminded them about going to quidditch practise, so consequently she would not be there when the twins remembered to tell the girls that practise was cancelled. In the common room he spotted Harry just in time as he was going out the portrait, but Katie was still being elusive.

After completing his homework for the night, Oliver returned from his dorm to find a blonde ponytail whip out of sight as the portrait shut behind Katie. He slipped silently behind her as he followed about twenty paces behind her. He knew she was heading for the changing rooms, so therefore he knew he wasn't going to lose her. As he drifted after her, he felt a little bit guilty for his actions, but he pushed the thought to the back of his mind. He stopped at the beginning of the corridor and waited for a while before running as hard as he could, slamming the door open. Katie looked round at him as he burst in through the door slightly out of breath.

"I'm really sorry Katie, I've been looking all over for you all day." _That bit was true, but was he really sorry that he was here with her all on her own?_ He continued, "I did ask the twins to pass the message on if they saw you, but –"

Katie smiled at him, her confusion ebbing away, "I think they got a little bit distracted." Oliver laughed as he recalled seeing the twins and the girls sneak around some statue of a one eyed witch. He hadn't paused to watch them, though because he was Katie hunting at the time.

He stepped closer to her, "As you may have guessed practise is cancelled today but I booked the pitch from seven tomorrow is that alright?" Katie smiled and nodded before an awkward pause. Just then, the door opened and Professor McGonagall walked in.

"Ah excellent, Wood I was wondering if you were still planning on taking your team out today, but apparently not. Have you got enough practise before the match?" If ever there was a supportive Head of House, it was Professor McGonagall. Oliver nodded and told her about the practise tomorrow. "Good luck then, the rain should have let up by then. Miss Bell, somebody said you wanted to see me?" She whisked Katie away and Oliver went to dinner.

Throughout the evening, the smell of his potion had been bugging him. As he stared up at his hangings he gave into curiosity. He carefully unstoppered the vial and tasted a drop of the crimson potion. He returned the vial to his trunk and felt the soaring sensation he felt when he was just about to make a spectacular save, the jolt of his stomach when he heard Lee Jordan announce his name as he shot out onto the pitch. He saw the colours around him glow, but it was too dark to see any difference. He focused on the scents filling his nostrils and he smelled the fade of smoke from birthday candles, a newly opened tin of broom polish and the slightly flowery scent he smelled that he could not place. For fifteen minutes he racked his brain and the name was just on the tip of his tongue, when he felt himself sink back to normal. _That was curious – a **name**, not a **thing**?_

He shot a glance to the trunk that concealed the vial of crimson liquid. _You know, red smelled really good._

**Reviews would be appreciated xXx**


	3. Hear Wednesday

**Disclaimer: However much I might wish I did, unfortunately I do not own any of these characters… They all belong to JKR… (mutters darkly under breath)**

**I'd just like to say that everything about _Qudditch Through The Ages _(except the borrower dates by Hermione and Harry – they were originally March but that wouldn't fit 'cos they're first years) is true. I've got the book written for Comic Relief and was sitting here checking that I've got everything right… No Comment…**

**Bit of a long chapter… I got carried away…sorry….**

**Red – The Senses **

_Hear Wednesday_

His body unfroze, shame deepening as Lee Jordan's voice echoed through his mind again, "Flint scores!" Every time a Slytherin came up to the hoops, his body froze, he couldn't move. He caught the red ball the other side of the hoop and tossed it to the nearest Gryffindor chaser. He watched as a scarlet blur impeded his vision. Harry was circling like a hawk for the tiny speck of gold that would save them from doom.

Katie streaked down the pitch determined to score. Angelina and Alicia swirled around her, stopping anyone else coming anywhere near her. Protecting her. As they approached the hoops, Angelina and Alicia darted left first, the keeper mirroring them, blocking them while Katie threw the quaffle underneath through the right hoop.

Cheering filled his ears as the sea of despairing Gryffindors issued a roar of appreciation for Katie. "Bell scores! 160, 10 to Slytherin!" Katie flew up quickly, getting out of Harry's way. He was shooting upwards into the clouds; Oliver's spirits rose – they could _draw!_ "Miles Bletchly of Slytherin in possession of the quaffle, Bletchly passes to Captain Flint who dodges Spinnet, bad luck Alicia, get him next time – Watch out Johnson, that's a bludger! Back to Bletchly, Flint –" The Weasley twins swung their bats at the bludger, one twin hovering around the girls, the other skimming alongside Harry who was dipping in and out of the grey, chilling clouds, following the snitch. Harry and George suddenly dived; Oliver's heart pace quickened as the first year's hand stretched out.

Lee Jordan's voice reached him as if from a mile away, "FOUL! YOU DIRTY, CHEATING SCUMBAG, YOU BLOODY BAS-" Oliver turned round to see Flint passing back to Bletchly _(where was his team's interception skills?)_. Flint flew up, cloud level with Katie. The next thing he saw was Katie toppling fast out of the sky; he flew as fast as he could as he watched her sink dangerously close to ground level. With a sharp jerk, he pulled his broom up, her soft form landing neatly in his arms. A familiar smell surrounded him, something that he was looking for, he couldn't remember.

As thought in slow motion, he looked up to see Bletchly smirking at him, Harry diving past on his Nimbus 2000, George's bat swinging towards the Slytherin chaser. It hit home, Bletchly spinning away, letting go of the quaffle to stay on his broom. The ball rose in the air and fell through the hoop as Bletchly was nearly knocked off his broom. Harry's fingers enclosed around the fluttering treasure, "Bletchly scores, Potter catches the snitch! Slytherin win!" Madame Hooch's whistle kept on emitting that piercing shriek…

Oliver's eyes snapped open as he hit the offending metal object on his bedside table. _Damn dawn practises._ Replacing the potion with his alarm clock that resided in his trunk yesterday was _not_ a good idea, he concluded. Being in his trunk all summer and the beginning of term, he had not heard the alarm that reminded him to get his team up for a quidditch practise at dawn.

A bead of cold sweat dripped down his chest and he rolled over out of his furnace bed. It was no good trying to go back to sleep; he was awake now. He thought about sending the clipping from _The Daily Prophet_ to his younger brother about Puddlemere United, and the more he pondered it, the more the idea appealed to him. He stretched as he pulled off his pyjama trousers and replaced them with boxers and a pair of black jeans. He didn't bother with a shirt – he was only going up to the owlery at sunrise – who would see him?

Oliver rummaged around in his bag until he found the letter containing the clipping and crept out the common room. He jogged up all the sets of stairs to the owlery until he reached the stone step pathway that was outside. A light drizzle had started to fall. He strolled on, basking in the cool drops of rain, wondering about the dream. He stood at the arched owlery window staring out over the horizon and rested his arm on the window ledge, watching his owl fly away over the lake. As the water fell, it reflected light over the stone walls behind him. Through the light of the sun just waking up, the rain looked red. It was as though blood was falling from the sky.

An old owl exhaustedly making its way over in to the window broke his reverie. As Oliver was about to stand aside to let the owl through; the owl aimed to land on the ledge, but missed. Oliver stretched his arm out as if saving the quaffle and spread his hand out as the owl landed in his palm. He brought Errol into the owlery and the owl sputtered as he clawed his way up Oliver's right shoulder. The talons dug into his flesh, biting and tearing. Oliver wished he had bothered to get a shirt, but that little voice in the back of his head was talking. _He would have to go back to the common room and stay near the bottom of the staircases, with blood pouring down his torso until a Weasley twin came down and took their owl and letter_. He tried to convince himself that this was only because he knew that Errol would get into trouble if left by himself to fly down to breakfast with the other owls all of his own accord. He refused to think why he needed to convince himself this was true. The thought that every Gryffindor – male and female – coming down would see him never crossed his mind. No, especially not the thoughts of a different member of his quidditch team.

Oliver made his way back to the common room and looked around the mess of inky parchment bearing scribbles accompanied by the name _Ron Weasley._ His eye caught on the book next to them _Qudditch Through The Ages by Kennilworthy Whisp_; he looked at the list of names inside the cover. His name was top of the list – _O. Wood 9th April_. He scanned the list and saw familiar names. _A. Johnson 19th July,_ further down was_ K. Bell 19th October_, the list continued with some Slytherins until_ F. Weasley 15th February_, he assumed that meant George had read it as well. Near the bottom of the list was_ H. Granger 2nd September_, the last borrower being_ H. Potter 11th September._ He picked the book up and began to flip through to his favourite pages. He lifted the owl to a more comfortable clutch on his shoulder before settling down on the floor in front of the fire.

He was woken by a girl's voice, "Ollliveeeer!" He opened an eye to find Katie snapping her fingers in front of his face. He jumped and she looked as if she was trying to smile, but couldn't quite make it. His brows furrowed confusion evident in his expression. He stood up and noticed a note on the floor. As he reached down to pick it up, pain seared through his shoulder. He winced and then the reason for Katie's concern became obvious. Oliver scanned the note: The twins thanked him for looking after Errol; Katie had been sitting near enough at breakfast for her to "overhear" Fred and George wondering where their _dear_ captain was. He was half-heartedly mentally cursing the twins for causing him embarrassment, when it suddenly occurred to him; _he was standing with **Katie Bell**, one of **his** chasers in an otherwise empty common room, with a large injury across his unclothed chest. Thank God he had considered putting **jeans** on; or now that he thought about it…_ His thoughts were jolted out of his brain by another eruption of pain that resulted in the numerous talon gashes being reopened, eliciting another glorious gasp from Katie. _(Glorious? What am I on about?)_ She stepped forward, her hand running about an inch from his skin, tracing the flow of blood seeping through. "What happened?"

His voice faltered half of him wanted to make some amazing fabrication that would impress her _(why do I want to impress her?); _the other half did not want to lie to her, but he couldn't tell her about how he was savaged by an old, pathetic, defenceless owl! "Erm- yeah, about that, I – ummm, better see Madam Pomfrey…Practise at seven, yes?" He dashed out the portrait leaving Katie behind, thoroughly perplexed.

He drifted down the corridors until he reached the hospital wing, preparing himself for the usual _I thought I told you last time to take better care of yourself_ he normally received when visiting Madame Pomfrey. Over the years, quidditch had introduced him to the Hospital Wing a fair few times. He pushed open the doors and was greeted by the _tut tut _of Madame Pomfrey and the usual, "What have you been up to now, Wood? It's a little early in the term for dawn practises isn't it?"

He looked down at the tiles and scuffed his foot, "I er- went up to the owlery and Errol – the, ah, _Weasley's_ owl didn't quite make it to the windowsill." After a few prods with her wand and a small scolding, he was set free, "Next time, I think you should stick to saving quaffles not owls. Good luck tomorrow!" He began to wonder why the match was on a Thursday. They were normally on Saturdays weren't they? What was happening on Saturday? He knew that it was on Thursday, leaving Friday as a reserve in case both teams wanted to delay the match in hope of better conditions, but what was happening on Saturday was beyond him.

Throughout Charms, History of Magic, Divination and his after lunch beloved free period, he pondered the weekend's activities. Professor McGonagall revealed the answer in Transfiguration: now they were in seventh year, there were "no excuses for not prioritising and organising around enjoyment." In other words, _there's no reason not to hand in homework just because it was a Hogsmead weekend_.

As quarter to seven rolled around, Oliver made his way out of his "office" all the ten paces to the Gryffindor changing room, customarily ignoring the twins' mutterings.

"Just because he's got a box, he thinks he's all important."

"Never mind, Fred, we've got a broom cupboard."

His mind was on avoidance strategies. Not of bludgers or Slytherins, but of his fan club whom undoubtedly would follow him around hoping to be asked out to Hogsmead with him. _Some third years were **really **unrealistic; one year later, they were so much more mature. _He refused to let his mind wander into a vision of himself strolling along with a certain fourth year as she walked into the changing rooms.

"Oliver, this morning – what happened?" She returned the smile as he looked at her.

"Erm, I had a little encounter with Errol, but ahem, it's all sorted now." His mind screamed _Change the subject_ and her gladly obliged, "Onto practise!"

Nearly two hours later they trudged mud from the soggy ground trailing all through the changing rooms. Exhausted Katie turned right as the boys turned left and dropped her clothes as she sank into the welcome warmth of the crystal liquid seeping warm from the tip of her nose to her toes. She heard the sighs of her team-mates as they gratifyingly sank into the pleasurable warmth. Three minutes later, two showers switched off to her left as the twins called to Angelina and Alicia that they would meet them in the common room in no less than fifteen minutes. A minute later she heard Oliver as he reminded them to get a good nights sleep before the match, "And don't drown yourselves, girls!" One by one Harry, Angelina and Alicia abandoned their showers in pursuit of more rewarding activities. As the door banged shut behind Harry, she thought she heard another male chortle, but she assumed that Ron had just come to find him.

Almost twenty minutes had passed before Katie felt thoroughly human. She stepped out and wrapped her towel around her, tucking the edges in at the tops as she searched the bench for her clothes. That was odd, Angelina and Alicia hadn't hung them up for her. Maybe they fell behind the bench? No, not there. She caught sight of a quidditch robe hanging inside out. As she turned it over, her heart sank as she saw the colours – green and silver.

As Oliver walked across the pitch pathway, he noticed a sparkly red object fluttering in the stands – two objects. He then observed Professor McGonagall stalk up to a gangly lad and haul him away, tucking the objects away with some other larger object into her robes. His curiosity sparked, he tailed them to her office, as he walked past she popped her head out. "Excuse me, Wood?" He stammered but her ice-cold tones cut in, "Would you mind taking these back to Miss Bell? She should still be in the changing rooms. Apparently I have yet to teach Mr Flint not to steal from others." She shoved some material into his arms and promptly shut the door. Although the door was shut, it still winced from the shrieks erupting from the room inside that probably reached the Headmaster's office. Oliver's heart soared as he listened to Professor McGonagall – if only the twins were here to listen to the true meaning of seeing red; that is until he looked down at the neatly folded bundle in his arms. His blood boiled and he wanted to storm through the door and slam Flint against the wall until – the realisation of what the Slytherin Captain had done hit Oliver hard as if someone had just punched him in the stomach. As he looked at the material in his arms, he realised what the fluttering sparkly objects were. On top of Katie's bell-bottomed jeans and floaty black gypsy top was a set of matching knickers and bra. They matched her bag, with sparkly diamonds around the edges, a pretty black pattern on each cup and the front of the knickers and a satin bow on each strap and in the middle above the pattern on the knickers. Oliver tore his gaze from them and scolded himself for mentally thinking how pretty they were – just like Katie.

"Erm… Katie?" He asked tentatively poking his head around the door. He caught sight of her as she raised her head, tears dribbling down her cheeks. She looked up at him the saw was he was holding. He was halfway into telling her who had taken her clothes when she stood up and flung her arms around him.

"Oh my God! Thankyou sooooo much!" She broke apart, her cheeks flaming. Oliver shut his eyes as he noticed the edge of the towel was slowly coming away from the corner. As his eyes closed her towel fell to the floor and she smiled, _really_ embarrassed before noticing he had shut his eyes. "Oliver – you're a really nice guy, do you know that?"

"Err- thanks." He turned around, opening the door, "see you tomorrow!" He managed to stumble back to the common room and into his favourite armchair thinking about when he was talking to Katie, his speech became riddled with umms and errrs.

Later, as he stripped out of his clothes, he inspected his newly healed skin. He dragged off his jeans and noticed that his boxers were red today. This observation brought his mind back to Katie's clothes. He replayed the scene in the changing room, then replayed every time her lips had parted in an exclamation of shock. Images of her clothes mingled with three different gasps played over and over in his head as Katie lulled him to sleep.

As he drifted off he muttered to himself, _Wow, red sounded amazing._

**Reviews would be appreciated xXx**


	4. See Thursday

_**D**oesn't **I**t **S**ay **C**haracters **L**astingly **A**re **I**naccurately **M**ine, **E**ver **R**owlings'?_

**I'm sure you've guessed by now that _italics_ are Oliver's thoughts/musings, but just to remind you if you've forgotten.**

**Red – The Senses**

_See Thursday_

Oliver opened his eyes to see sunlight pouring in through the window. He edged it opened to feel very cool air brushing past him despite the bright sunlight. After closing the window, he wondered back to lie on his bed, picking up the piece of paper on his nightstand that contained his pre-match speech he had written the previous year. _Maybe Fred and George will know it by now._ He ran through it a couple of times, before it came back to be fixed in his memory, before dressing and heading down to breakfast.

Walking into the aroma of delicious food the house elves had been slaving over, Oliver went to sit with the twins and the girls. He joined in picking pieces of toast to pieces, reducing them to crumbs while scoffing an odd mouthful when they were staring at him to set an example. Every now and then, he looked down the table to see Harry with a slightly green-around-the-edges look about him whilst Hermione was coaxing him to eat some breakfast.

By eleven o'clock he could hear the school assemble in the stands and he felt that familiar soaring sensation he got right before a match. He paced up and down in front of his team clad in their Gryffindor robes, preparing them for the match.

"Ok, men." He said. _Hmm, I sound rather like a warrior, leading my army into battle on the misty grounds of -._

"And women." Angelina interrupted his heroic delusions to remind him that his team did not just consist of males.

"And women," he agreed. _Yes, my chasers are definitely female_. "This is it."

"The big one." _Damn it, they have memorised The Speech. Think quick, Oliver, think quick._

"The one we've all been waiting for." _No, George was quicker._

"We know Oliver's speech by heart," _Maybe Fred has got a little **too** used to stage whispering,_ "we were on the team last year." _Oooh, feisty comeback time…_

"Shut up you two," _Oh well done, Oliver,_ "this is the best team Gryffindor's had in years. We're going to win. I know it." _Or else._ Judging by the look on his seeker's face, he had either said that out loud, or was glaring death glares at his team. Judging by Angelina and Alicia's uninterrupted nattering about whether Cedric Diggory had a fitter body than their respective twin, Oliver guessed the latter possibility. _Distract, Oliver, distract._ "Right its time good luck, all of you."

His body was tingling all over, trying to push the dream out of his head. _Don't worry about Katie, she's a big girl, she can take care of herself._ He looked over at Katie with a _look_ in his eyes and was rewarded by a winning, if not slightly nervous, smile. He flew out onto the pitch; his stomach gave a jolt as Lee Jordan's voice belted out "Wood," over the stands. Circling around the pitch and above the crowds, Oliver's spirits rose as he took in the sea of crimson and gold screaming at the tops of their voices, holding banners proudly aloft in the air.

He grinned as he caught sight of **Potter for President **with an excellent illustration of a lion beneath it. The paint flashed a rainbow of colours though mainly red and gold, but never green or silver. _Miss Granger really was bright for a first year._ Madame Hooch's whistle blew.

"Now I want a nice fair game, all of you." Her looks seemed to aim for the Slytherins, but Oliver nodded anyway before he and Flint tried to break each other's fingers. He smirked when he caught sight of Flint twitching. "Mount your brooms please." The whistle shrieked again as the quaffle rose in the air and Lee Jordan began his commentary.

"And the quaffle is taken immediately by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor, what an excellent chaser that girl is and rather attractive too –"

"JORDAN!" McGonagall's voice interjected.

"Sorry Professor," Oliver distinctly caught the smile in Lee's voice, but his eyes were fixed to the progress of his chasers – Chaser Formation 6 was working well. "And she's really belting along up there, a neat pass to Alicia Spinnet, a good find of Wood's, last year only a reserve – back to Johnson and – no, Slytherin have taken the quaffle. _Let's hope that entire interception practice paid off. _

"Slytherin Captain Marcus Flint gains the quaffle and off he goes – Flint flying like an eagle up there," Oliver's heart pelted against his rib cage as Flint drew nearer. _It's not an owl; it's a quaffle._ The image of Flint carrying a fluffy owl nearly made him laugh out loud.

"He's going to sc-no stopped by an excellent move by Gryffindor Keeper Oliver Wood." _Haha, Lee, glad you weren't up in the Owlery yesterday morning._ Oliver tossed the ball back to Katie and smirked the trademark oh-well-maybe-next-time smirk as Flint growled back at him.

"Gryffindor take the quaffle – that's chaser Katie Bell of Gryffindor there, nice dive around Flint, off and up the field and – ouch that must have hurt, hit in the back of the head by a bludger –" Oliver's broom jumped forward a bit as he gestured one of the twins. Whether he wanted them to go after Katie or the bludger he wasn't quite sure.

"Quaffle taken by Slytherin, that's Adrian Pucey speeding off towards the goal posts but he's blocked by a second bludger sent his way by Fred or George Weasley, can't tell which –" Oliver gave a thumbs up to the twin as Angelina caught the red ball. "Nice play by the Gryffindor beater anyway, and Johnson back in possession of the quaffle. A clear field ahead and off she goes – she's really flying –" _Yes, Lees, she is. That's chaser tactic 3 in play – you watch that bludger –_

"Dodges a speeding bludger – the goal posts are ahead – come on now Angelina, the Slytherin Keeper dives, misses GRYFFINDOR SCORE! Oliver looked around at the cheering Gryffindor supporters while the Slytherins moaned and booed. _Hang on, was that Harry, moving over onto the main pitch? That's NOT what we agreed on, if I remember rightly, I told him to "keep out of the way until you catch sight of the snitch. We don't want you getting attacked before you have to be –_

"Slytherin in possession, chaser Pucey ducks two between two Weasleys and chaser Bell and speeds towards the – wait a moment – was that the snitch? Oliver's frown lines smoothed out as he realised Harry had gone after the snitch. _Hang on, Harry after the snitch? We're going to win!_ Harry was diving down, _We're going to win,_ Pucey dropped the quaffle, Slytherin seeker Terrence Higgs following Harry while the chasers abandoned their competition and hovered in mid air to watch. _We're going to win! We're going to –_

"FOUL!" A roar erupted from the crowds as Flint blocked Harry on purpose, making hi broom spin of course. Madam Hooch flew over to Flint as Alicia readied for a free shot. Lee, however, was still howling.

"So – after that obvious and disgusting but of cheating,"

Jordan," Oliver could tell Professor McGonagall was secretly pleased with Lee.

"I mean, after that open and revolting foul," Lee tried again.

Jordan I'm warning you," Secretly really deep down.

"All right, all right," Lee had given up, "Flint nearly kills the Gryffindor Seeker which could happen to anyone, I'm sure, so a penalty to Gryffindor taken by Spinnet who puts it away no trouble and we continue to play, Gryffindor still in possession."

_I'm going to win._ Harry dodged a bludger. _I mean, **we're** going to win._ Oliver's attention was fixed on his seeker and had zoned out Lee's commentary. Harry's broom suddenly gave a lurch, no one else had noticed _maybe it was just an accident._

"Slytherin in possession – Flint with the quaffle – passes Spinnet – passes

Bell – hit hard in the face by a bludger, hope it broke his nose – only joking professor – Slytherin score – oh no…"

Cheering brought Oliver back to the game; he turned expecting to see his chasers high-fiving each other down the far end of the pitch, but mentally swore when Flint was smirking at him. By now, both spectators and players were pointing to Harry's broom rolling over and over. _Maybe it wasn't an accident._ He waved his hands at the Weasleys again and signalled them to fly up to Harry. The broom gave a sudden jolt and Harry flew up again, this time only managing to clutch at his Nimbus, dangling by one hand. _No, definitely not an accident._

Fred and George flew up, trying to get Harry to safety, but every time they got near to him, the broom jumped up higher into the air. They circled underneath him hoping to catch him if he fell when there was a scuffle in the teacher's stands. Oliver, however, was paying attention to Harry. He suddenly swung his leg over his now stilled broom and dived towards the ground. He hit the pitch on his hands and knees, the girls flew down to him – he looked like he was going to be sick. He coughed and the snitch fell out of his mouth into his hands, Harry yelling that he'd caught the snitch.

"Gryffindor win!" Echoed around the grounds despite, Flint's protests that Harry had not caught the snitch, he'd swallowed it.

On their way back to lessons after lunch, the Weasley twins halted the Gryffindor table, passing on the message:

"Party – Gryffindor common room, tonight."

Oliver felt a swoop as Katie's hand brushed his as he passed the note onto her, Angelina passing an identical note on the other side of the table.

He looked away from Katie's blushing cheeks. _Red really was a pretty colour._

**Reviews would be appreciated xXx**


	5. Taste Friday

**Disclaimer: For the last time in _Red – The Senses_, I will be admitting that I do not own the characters created but Joanne Rowling. **

**I haven't updated in ages, I know, I'm sorry. There's only one sense left for me to do, and I'm sure you can all guess what it is and what happens, but enjoy the last ever chapter of _Red The Senses_ anyway "sniff". I know that technically, it begins on Thursday, but by the end, it's Friday. **

**If anyone has watched _The Princess Diaries_ please imagine that 3 paragraphs from the end, that the opening bars to the _Miracles happen_ song at the end are playing – you know what getting at – the old chord sequence bit before the lyrics kick in. **

**Red – The Senses**

_Taste Friday _

Walking back from dinner, Oliver felt a swoop in his stomach; he tried to put it down to celebratory feelings, but the smarter part of his mind had already figured out what the real cause was. This evening was different, and he knew it. He didn't know why, but a tingle of elation possessed every cell in his body._ Calm down, Oliver!_ He could almost hit his inner conscience. Over the past week it had been bugging him terribly. The awful part of it was that he knew it was right.

He made a conscious effort to slow his steps as he meandered down the corridors to the changing rooms. The team had agreed to put on their outer robes for the party. This pact conjured up images Oliver knew he shouldn't be having – the robes were hot and in a crowded common room the heat would be sweltering; he doubted whether the girls would have much on but a short skirt and strappy top under their robes.

This was wrong – his youngest chaser was only a fourth year! She was fifteen – she shouldn't even be thinking about him – wait, _boys_ in that way! She was far too young to be kissing _anybody,_ let alone a seventh year! Oliver tried desperately to stop himself picturing her slight body pressed with one of a very familiar seventh year in particular.

The Fat Lady was drawing closer and closer; Oliver braced himself for the chaotic havoc he expected to see inside. It was every bit as manic as he predicted – those blasted Weasleys had pushed a few tables together to make a small platform. He watched as the scene unfolded before him, five members of his team standing on the platform; one of the twins yelling out to the Gryffindors while the other was juggling empty butterbeer bottles in time to the loud music blasting around them.

A crowd of partying students filled the common room, hiking the temperature up to an almost unbearable heat. It was no good – he would have to take his shirt off.

A sudden reckless nerve took hold of him and he strode over to his team, scaling the tables effortlessly. It was his last year – he was never going to get the chance to do this again after Hogwarts. This realization wrenched at his heart, an unfamiliar twinge of sorrow pulling at him.

His next observance was that he had somehow, quite unintentionally, you understand, managed to position himself between Katie and Alicia, uttering wrecking their dancing pattern. The latter turned happily back to George as Fred took Angelina's hand on the other side. Oliver turned to Katie with his hand held out, a slightly nervous grin hitched onto his face – after all, it was only the polite thing to do, right?

She put her delicate hand into his larger roughened one, and the swoop in his stomach dipped down again as he spun her towards him and then away from him again. As the team danced, some of the other popular Gryffindors hoisted themselves onto the platform.

Oliver brought Katie to an unnoticed side that finished near a corner in the wall and dropped down off the table, holding his arms up to her to ensure her a safe fall.

"No, way!" she laughed at him, "I'll squash you!"

Oliver did not know why, but her acceptance of him and her trust placed in him were suddenly important more than ever before – he wanted them; he needed them. "Come on, Kates – the wall's firmly behind me."

With a cautious glance behind her at the unobserving team mates, she stepped off the side and squealed with delight when his strong quidditch-built arms captured her. _This felt right._ Regretfully, he let her go, this time, knowing that he wanted her back again. They made their way over to the side of the room and sat down, Oliver summoning two drinks off the nearby table.

As Katie sat down, he couldn't help noticing the way her robes fell open to reveal her tanned legs that were just caught at the top with a light summer skirt. He felt bad for looking at her like that and immediately brought his gaze back up to her face, but noticed a slight excited smile lingering there, almost as if she knew and could read his mind.

The Common Room steadily became tipsier around them and the smell of firewhisky lingered in the air. Their conversation absorbed both of them; they hardly noticed that the bottles they held had been the same one that had lasted them a couple of hours. The noise level was coming down from its peak as coupled became stifled with each other and the crowds dispersed as they escaped to find their own privacy.

By eleven o'clock, the younger students not so used to the Gryffindor celebrations headed to bed for recovery so that the remnants of the population consisted of the older team members and the upper school. With a flick of a wand and a dim of the flames, the music quieted and slowed its pace.

Again, Oliver extended his hand to Katie, and once more, she accepted with a smile. She accepted him; she trusted him. Oliver's spirits soared. He led her into the group of dancing couples, not at the edge, but away from the centre and attention from the catcalls of the twins over the shoulders of Angelina and Alicia.

He spun her slowly away from him and then pulled her back towards him, enveloping one arm about her slim waist. She rested her other hand against his bare chest and lightly pressed herself shyly to him, their breathing slowing to synchronize peacefully with each other. His mind leisurely cruised through the past few days.

_He watched as Katie hurtled herself at the mound of colour and landed with a gleeful cry of mirth as the leaves rose up and floated back down on top of her._ Oliver wondered about the dry, but still colourful leaf sitting patiently on his dormitory table. He thought about red; _how red was disposed to create anger, as he had demonstrated to the twins, while it had a softer, fun loving feel to it as well. _

With one of his hands held Katie's he moved the other from her waist across her back over her crimson robes and then back again._ Yes,_ _red felt rather nice._

His mind progressed to Tuesday; _He carefully unstoppered the vial and tasted a drop of the crimson potion. He returned the vial to his trunk and felt the soaring sensation he felt when he was just about to make a spectacular save, the jolt of his stomach when he heard Lee Jordan announce his name as he shot out onto the pitch. He saw the colours around him glow, but it was too dark to see any difference. He focused on the scents filling his nostrils and he smelled the fade of smoke from birthday candles, a newly opened tin of broom polish and the slightly flowery scent he smelled that he could not place._

Oliver pulled Katie tighter to him and moved his head down to hers, burying his face in her beautiful mousey blonde hair. In the dim light, its shine reflected their robes draped loosely around their shoulders giving it a strawberry tint. His nose filled with the slight scent of lavender. _You know, red smelled really good. _

He moved over to Wednesday; _He opened an eye to find Katie snapping her fingers in front of his face. He jumped and she looked as if she was trying to smile, but couldn't quite make it. She stepped forward, her hand running about an inch from his skin, tracing the flow of blood seeping through. "What happened?" He replayed the scene in the changing room, then replayed every time her lips had parted in an exclamation of shock. Images of her clothes mingled with three different gasps playing over and over in his head as Katie lulled him to sleep._

As Oliver's ribcage expanded when he took in as much of Katie's scent as possible, he crushed her closer to him. Their hands separated as his palms supported her back and her arms clasped wonderfully tight around his neck. With his ears now closer to her mouth, he could hear as well as feel her breathing. He caught a small sigh when he tightened his grip for a moment. _Wow, red sounded amazing._

The chime of the clock echoed distantly around them as Oliver thought about what was now yesterday; _His body was tingling all over, trying to push the dream out of his head. **Don't worry about Katie, she's a big girl, she can take care of herself**. He looked over at Katie with a look in his eyes and was rewarded by a winning, if not slightly nervous, smile._ _He felt a swoop as Katie's hand brushed his as he passed the note onto her, Angelina passing an identical note on the other side of the table. He looked away from Katie's blushing cheeks. _

His right hand slid gently upwards until he could tilt her chin up to him. That very same blush stained her cheeks now. _Red really was a pretty colour. _

His reminiscing now over, he knew that the time was right. Oliver traced the details of her face, committing them to his memory. He looked at her luscious rose lips; he caught Katie's gaze and then closed his own eyes and he lowers his own lips to hers.

_Red tasted delicious._

He kissed her once and then drew back, uncertainly. His concerns evaporated, however when she smiled the most beautiful smile he had ever seen and leaned back in towards him, her sweet, soft lips pressing against his once more.

Now, his brain was occupied with more important things, but tomorrow, he would try to remember to agree with the twins;

_Red really was his favourite colour. _

**_Finis. _**

**_Love, _**

**_x Imperial Princess x_**


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